Taurus (Guardians of the Stars Book 1)
Page 6
Could I trust Walker to protect us?
I stared at him—this stranger I’d always known. I’d never sensed the divide until this very moment.
Where did I belong? Maddy’s cry shattered the thought. I felt the tiny flap of wings as sparrows scattered inside my chest. Where did I belong?
“Are you thinking about him, the man you killed?” Walker whispered, stepping closer. “Are you thinking about the blood on your hands?”
I flinched. Yet I never felt the chill of his words—how could I, when I was already frozen inside? If only I could make him understand. “I’ll gather the rest of the wood.”
I’d never been so glad to see his back—this brother of mine. I followed Maddy’s cries, dropping the wood into a pile and set to work, piling kindling and tuffs of dried grass into the middle, then catching the spark of a flint.
Tiny puffs of white smoke drifted as I blew. The grass caught alight, then leaves and dried sticks until a tiny yellow flame danced. I stared into its black belly, and in my mind, I caught the spark in Marcus’ eyes. I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to help.
My chest tightened. This man—this stranger—affected me in ways my kin didn’t. I tried to quell the heat inside, but there was too much kindling and the fire blazed.
“Ow.” I yanked my hand away as the flames singed the tips of my fingers, then dimmed.
More leaves, more wood. I fed the burn one mouthful at a time. The greedy flare reached for me, hungry. My fingers stung. The fire was ferocious.
“Something’s wrong with my baby!”
Maddy’s howl yanked me into the present. I scurried to my feet as Buck stood. He turned his head and our gazes collided. His shoulders sagged. I felt the weight in my own.
“Isn’t there?” Maddy’s moans turned to whimpers. “Isn’t there something wrong!”
“I don’t know what to do. The head should be low, but I feel the mound against her belly. It’s the wrong way around. There’s nothing I can do.”
I shook my head as he wiped his hands on a bloody rag. “You can’t leave her.”
“I’m sorry.”
How many times had I heard those words? One hundred? One thousand? Those words sickened me, wadded up and shoved down my throat. They weren’t an excuse. They didn’t excuse him. They didn’t excuse anyone.
“Go away, then. Leave. If she dies, her blood’s on you.”
He shook his head. His white hair fluttered in the breeze. “That’s not fair, Abrial. If this was a wound, I could heal it. But….”
“Odessa. Can you find some water? Ice cold, okay? I’ll grab the rags.” I rolled up my sleeves and looked at the bloody mess. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”
Maddy’s eyes were bright with fear. “Okay.”
I snatched the rag from Buck’s hands and moved to Maddy’s side. My knees hit the ground hard as I dropped. I slid the back of my hand across her ruddy forehead. “We have to bring your temperature down. It’s not good for you, or the baby, to be so hot.”
“I’ll find some water. I’ll be quick.” Odessa dropped to her pack, her fingers worked fast to untie a pail. Then she was running, tearing through the trees like a deer in full flight.
Odessa’s movement tried to steal my focus, but I kept my gaze fixed on the terrified mother-to-be. “Your baby’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”
I yanked a shirt from my pack and scrambled toward her, while inside I prayed for Odessa to hurry. Maddy’s face turned red as she dropped her chin and clenched her body tight.
“We’re going to be fine.” I whispered as Maddy whimpered. “We’re going to be fine.”
Minutes seemed to crawl by, but finally, water sloshed against the sides of a pail when Odessa cut through the underbrush at my back. She gulped the air, her chest heaved. “It was the coldest I could find.”
I speared my hand into the pail as Odessa stumbled over to her spilled pack. Cloth tore. Her hands worked fast to rip and shred before she shoved rags into my hands. I stared at the sleeves, shirts torn in two, and pants torn into smaller chunks.
I looked up at her. “These are your clothes?”
“Yes. They’re clean. Clean enough anyway.”
I grasped the fabric and shoved my fist into the bucket, soaking up the frigid water. “Odessa, can you hold her hand, while I try to get her temperature down?”
I wiped Maddy’s forehead with the cloth until the fabric turned hot. I wet the rag again, drifting down to her temples, then sliding under her hair to the nape of her neck.
“That feels so good,” Maddy whispered.
I nodded, keeping the motion. Soak, wipe, soak, wipe, until her reddened cheeks paled. Under my touch, the current raced, bearing down, tightening until her body trembled, and I thought she could take no more.
One after another the contractions came. Odessa’s hand pale under Maddy’s grip. The lone wolf never whimpered and never let go.
I dipped the rag into the bucket and rubbed Maddy’s face while I rode the lightning in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, Maddy. You’re so strong. You’re so unbelievably strong.”
“I’m not.” She cried, dropping her head to the flattened coat. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Hour after hour, Maddy screamed, then cried and whimpered. Still, the contractions came no closer together.
The sun slipped through the trees, beating down above us, then toppled from its throne. Odessa grasped Maddy’s hand from mine. I fumbled with the cup and lifted Maddy’s head, but my fingers were numb. My heart numbed too, as the day dimmed.
“Again,” the lone wolf whispered, growling with Maddy as the battle began once more. White teeth shone in the dimming light. Their growls sounded hungry, ready to tear this unseen enemy apart, until with a soft cry, Maddy signaled this wave was over—and we waited for a new battle to begin.
Her lips glistened as I squeezed the rag against her lips, then left her side to quickly stoke the fire as the sun slipped away. Even in the dark we battled, dropping our heads to catch our breath before I checked between Maddy’s legs. In the silence, there was only our breaths. No one came near us, we battled this demon alone—a demon who was winning.
Under the contractions, Maddy’s belly was silent. I couldn’t feel the baby kick and hadn’t for some time. Not even a shift against her body, nothing. The labouring mother’s grunts and groans were husky, rolling from one into another as she thrashed. Time seemed to stand still.
“You’re wrong,” Maddy snapped, yanking Odessa forward. The tiny wolf toppled, falling into her. “You’re wrong. My baby’s dead.”
I reached for her belly and pulled her shift out of the way. Blood. There was so much blood.
“I’m never wrong.” Odessa gripped Maddy’s hand, never wavering. “You just wait and see. I’m never wrong.”
The young wolf leaned over, until her nose touched Maddy’s. Eye-to-eye. Magic passed between them. In the distance, lightning lit up the clouds. A storm was coming. I felt the power from this lone wolf crawl over my skin and snatch the breath from my lungs, leaving me with the lick of cold night air.
“Are you ready, Madeline? Are you ready to meet your daughter?” Odessa growled.
Maddy held her gaze and screamed. “Yes!”
Pain ripped through the suffering wolf, capturing my focus as she stilled. In her eyes I watched her mind race to catch up. Then her jaw slackened, her lips parted. For a second I heard no sound until the wave hit me. Her bloodless scream shattered the silence. There was no breath—there was no time.
Blow after blow, her body took the brunt. The wolf by her side urged her to growl. Maddy lifted her chin until her throat stretched, neither human nor wolf, and howled.
I felt the stirring in my soul. I let my head fall backward. The wolf rushed to the surface, meeting the night with a cry of its own. Our voices mingled together, Maddy’s, Odessa’s, and mine until the fire ebbed in my belly and my throat ran dry.
Toes, so tiny they were nothing more than perfect little stumps. The sight wavered, then was swallowed by the blur of tears. “You’re doing it. You’re doing it Maddy. Keep pushing. Keep going. She’s almost here… she’s almost here.”
Her scream ran dry. Then, in a breath, the sound filled the air once more. I cupped two perfect little legs, cradling the slippery bottom as her body slipped free. Maddy’s body held on tight to her head. The baby couldn’t yet breathe, but in my mind I was screaming. She’s suffocating. She’s dying.
“One more, Maddy. Come on. One more push.”
Odessa gripped Maddy’s hand, raising her fingers to the gods and slid their fingers together. I caught the quake as the baby’s head slipped into my hands.
She was perfect.
So unbelievably perfect.
But her face was grey.
Should she be so grey?
The sudden sound of tearing cloth stole my focus. Odessa jerked the hem of Maddy’s neckline, exposing her breasts, then her belly. “Lay the baby on her chest, heart-to-heart. She needs to hear her home.”
I cradled the lifeless form, watching her little arms fall to the side, then slide along her mother’s skin. Please be okay. Please breathe.
I rubbed her little body, pushing her against Maddy’s chest. A tiny mewl, not even a whimper. I held my breath. Did I imagine the sound?
Maddy closed her hands over her babe, then gripped her child tight. She raised her head and stared at her daughter.
Come on. Come on.
“I love you.” Maddy whispered. “I love you so much.”
The tiny sound came again. I couldn’t see her lips move. I couldn’t see anything. The sound ratcheted one octave at a time, followed by a tiny draw of breath. A shriek tore from those perfect little lips, stealing the thunder from the sky. Stealing everything.
Odessa’s face lit with a smile so wide, it mirrored the crescent moon. In the distance the lightning came closer, sweeping everything away with the pungent scent of ozone.
“She’s perfect, Maddy. She’s so perfect.” I whispered.
Odessa brushed back hair slick with sweat from Maddy’s brow. “What are you going to call her?”
Maddy looked up to the swelling white thunderheads as they rolled and swelled and whispered. “Storm. Her name is Storm.”
For the first time in what felt like forever I smiled. “That’s a perfect name. Storm.”
“Congratulations, Maddy.” My father called behind me. I spun at the sound. “Is it a boy?”
None of us answered for a moment. Was silence an answer?
“A girl.” Maddy’s voice was a husky croak. “It’s a little girl.”
“Oh.” The sound of steps followed. “Another girl. The storm’s almost here. We’ll stay here tonight and leave later tomorrow to give you some rest.”
Maddy pushed herself up with one hand and cradled her baby with the other. “Thank you. I’ll keep up. You won’t have to worry about us.”
One nod, then my father shifted his gaze to me. “Good job.”
Then he disappeared, leaving the three of us alone.
I closed my eyes at the sound of his boots, waiting, praying, yet in my heart I knew the words would come.
“He seems happy that she’s a girl. Don’t you think he’s happy, Abrial?” Maddy whispered as I struggled to stand on numbed legs.
No. I don’t think he’s happy at all. “Sure. Sure, I think he is.”
I left them behind, following my father as he turned from where the warm fires waited and headed into the shadows.
I skirted the trees, finding his outline in the darkness. The crack of light ripped the sky, illuminating the hunched forms. My father, Hurron, Buck, Leon and Travers. The five men who controlled everything in our pack.
I caught the word… girl. All five dropped their heads. I edged closer, keeping my feet light. Déjà vu hit me. Wasn’t it my sister’s fate they decided not so long ago?
Do I save one, or save many Abrial? Answer me that. Well… answer me. One, or many? How the mighty had fallen. While the others of my pack still saw the warrior and the Alpha, I only saw weakness.
Well, answer me, Abrial. One, or many?
I sucked in the night air and shuffled closer. Please, Goddess. Just this once, save one.
I crept forward, pressing my face into a thorny bush to hear.
“We have no food as it is. She’ll slow us down. She’s just a girl. They’ll only breed more.”
Thorns gouged my skin. Those words. Those words.
“Leave her behind.”
I jerked my head up and slapped one hand over my mouth while I gripped the bush with the other. No!
“Agreed. Leave her behind.”
“Leave her behind.”
“Aye. Leave her behind.”
“Leave her behind.”
Thorns pierced my palm. I clenched tighter.
“Leave her behind.”
I jerked at the sound. Six? Five men controlled our pack. I strained to hear the sixth, not trusting my ears.
“Are you sure, Walker? This is Maddy we’re talking about, the mother of your child.”
Please, no. Not Walker. Not him.
My best friend’s voice rang out loud and clear. “I’m sure. There’s no other choice. Like you say, save the one, or save the many. We have to leave her behind.”
Pain drove the thorn through my body and into my heart. The one male I thought I could trust had betrayed us and I was five all over again. No. Please not again. I rocked back in the shadows and my hands slipped to hug my knees.
No one would save us. Not my father. Not my friend.
I fisted the hair at my temples, the thuds inside were words.
Just a girl. But she wasn’t just a girl. She was every girl, every woman—every mother. Every sister. Every friend.
Just a girl? No, Maddy’s baby was everything.
I had to save her, then maybe I could save my sister.
I forced my boots to move, edging backwards and looked to the sky. The North Star shone bright, enticing me to watch, to follow.
But the storm would soon be here.
Leaves crunched under my boots in the dark. I retraced my steps until the fire chased the darkness away.
“What happened?” Maddy murmured. Her eyes slid closed, before opening. But she wasn’t asleep, not yet. She cradled her baby in the crook of her arm. The little bundle wriggled, wrapped tight in my favorite sky blue shirt.
The corner of my mouth tugged as I dropped to my knees beside her. “Nothing. Everything will be fine. You trust me, right, Maddy? You trust that I’ll keep us safe?”
“You’re starting to scare me, Abby.”
Her lips were already starting to pinken. I’d never seen a woman look so beautiful as she did in that moment. “You have nothing to be frightened of. I just need to hear the words.”
“I trust you.” Those words never trembled.
“I trust you, too.” Odessa whispered.
I shook my head. “Why? You don’t even know me.”
“You’re the reason I’m here, Abrial. You’re the Alpha we all need.”
Odessa held my gaze and climbed to her feet as I spoke. “Stay with her. Don’t leave her side. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Storm’s almost here.” Odessa whispered.
That touch of other caressed my mind. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
Her hand snaked out to grasp my arm. Her eyes twinkled. “You want to know what I see in your future?”
I wrenched my hand away. My heart thundered. “No… don’t. I already know.”
“I bet you don’t. I bet you don’t know a thing.”
Lightning cracked overhead, and in the luminescence, I saw her. Eyes wide and lips smiling. “Run, Abrial
.” She yelled as thunder chased the light. “Run, run, run.”
The rumble overhead frightened my wolf. I forced my gaze up, finding the sparkle in the sky as the storm clouds swallowed the light.
“Run!” Odessa screamed.
I stumbled backward, then turned and lunged for the trees.
My knees jarred with every thud. Two hours and I’d make the town. Would I find someone to help? The hospital. They’re humans—they help everyone. I had to try.
I had maybe seven, eight hours before the men started to rise and It’d taken us almost eight hours to get here. But the pack was slow with the old and the young. In a run I could try do it in three.
Then do it.
My boots hit the ground, sending a quake through my body. I leaned into the movement, grasping trees as I shuffled past to throw myself ahead, faster, harder, praying momentum would take me.
East turned into west, then north and south. I spun staring at the trees, which now all looked the same. The storm cloud parted, revealing the stars above. I tracked my movements by the constellations. Still I kept walking, pushing my lead-filled feet into a jog, then into a run as fast as the thick forest floor would allow.
My boot hit a hollow in the earth, sending shards of pain into my knee. I toppled and hit the ground with a thud. The cold earth held me, like I’d held Maddy’s newborn baby.
Storm.
I had to save her. Even if they left Maddy with enough food and water to last her for days, she’d die out here. There were more than wolves who combed the woods for prey. The Echo pack would come—just as I knew they were coming for me.
I deserved death. Maddy and her little girl didn’t. I shoved my hand against the wet earth, leaves stuck to my face as I forced my chest off the ground and slid my knees underneath me.
I slammed my right foot against the ground and shoved upwards. My knee screamed as I followed with my left. Shift. My wolf snarled. I looked up at the sky, thick cloud covered the moon, still I felt her, slipping, slipping.
I needed to shift and heal. But I needed the connection of my pack to give me the strength. I couldn’t take the risk of lying in a ditch, half-shifted and unable to find help. I hobbled, using my heel to pivot and climbed the steep rise. Each thud jarred my knee, until my hot tears mingled with the fresh splatter of rain.